


In The Cards

by Gzmoii



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha T'Challa, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, And I just love Sam Wilson so much, Arranged Marriage, Bucky is 7 years older than Sam in this and so is T'Challa, He deserves an award, I just rewatched CA: TWS, M/M, Omega Sam Wilson, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Sam is Eighteen Years Old, alpha bucky, polyamory?, predestined mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-08-09 16:05:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7808299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gzmoii/pseuds/Gzmoii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything happens for a reason. Except it doesn't. There is no rhyme or reason. It is all predestined. There is no point in making sense of what has been written in the cards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Project: Redwing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets sent by his Alpha to retrieve an omega (Sam Wilson) that could improve his Alpha's company. 
> 
> Within minutes of entering the Tower, Steve's day gets a lot worse and Sam's gets so much better.

“Steve.”

“Sir.” Steve crossed his arms, keeping his stance neutral as he faced his employer, an Alpha named Tony Stark. He took a step forward, still waiting outside the reinforced glass doors of Tony’s lab. “Permission to Enter?”

“Denied.” Tony turned to look at Steve, waving a hand covered in Stark technology and watching with a smirk as the door opened. “I'm kidding. Come on in.”

Steve uncrossed his arms and relaxed the tense set of his shoulders once he saw that his boss and Alpha was in a joking mood, and not in another one of his inventing trances.

“Relax, sweetheart.” Tony turned around, handing Steve a folder. “I've got a no-stress assignment for you. Something about an omega; Samuel Thomas Wilson. An 18 year old kid located in Harlem. You're one of the few betas I have on my team, and I can't send another Alpha, god forbid.” Tony laughed at the thought. “I contacted the kid's mother already and she's one Alpha you do not want to fuck with. This will need the expertise of someone with a lighter touch.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, “The kid is that important, Tony?”

The Alpha shook his head. “More, actually.” He tapped the file in Steve’s hands. “I somehow doubt you'll read this, so how about I just explain? Project: Redwing, Steve.”

Steve nodded, familiar with the name. “That big project that nearly gave Stark Technologies a run for its money last year.”

“Yes. A project that he happens to be the mastermind behind. This kid, Sam, ran the whole project with this Alpha named Riley as the figurehead until he kicked the bucket. Then the whole thing was nixed. But I want to get to this kid before Pym Tech manages to get their heads out of Scott’s ass long enough to see the gold mine here.” Tony threw up his hands. “It's a perfect scenario, Steve! An omega isn't allowed to hold a position of power. So how about I, the infamously selfless Anthony Stark, take care of that little problem. I'm an Alpha, and he's a genius. We can make beautiful things happen.”

“Tony, you're rambling.” Steve pointed out, pressing his lips against the man's forehead.

“You're right. Thanks.” Tony smiled gratefully. “Back to what I was saying. Go get the kid.” Tony punctuated the order with a quick kiss. “Dismissed.”

“Affirmative.” Steve took the folder and then walked out of the room.

* * *

  
“Sammy! Come downstairs, sweetie!” Sam's mother, Darlene, yelled. She was sitting on the couch, eying Steve with a look that could only be described as chilling.

“You have a lovely home.” Steve said hesitantly, glad that Tony had chosen not to send an Alpha. Any of their Alpha employees would have had an even icier welcome, and Steve felt as if he was going to wilt under this Alpha woman’s heavy gaze. He pointedly looked away, unable to hold her gaze for long. He instead focused his eyes on the mahogany table placed in front of the couch.

“What are your employer’s intentions with my son?” Darlene asked, ignoring Steve’s compliment entirely. “He is an unbonded omega, has never experienced a heat, and he is smarter than most alphas. I understand that those are dangerous qualities. If you plan on eliminating my son or, even worse, turning him into breeding stock for the Alphas you have on staff-”

“No! Ma’am, you've got it all wrong. We don't have any ill intentions towards your son. T-uh, Mr. Stark only wants to see your son's genius put to use. He wants to take him as his business partner, of sorts. I am his bonded. He would never do such a thing.” Steve assured Darlene, crossing one leg over the other.

“I'd like to see the contract.” Darlene held out her hand and Steve placed the document in her hand. She looked it over as light footsteps were heard coming down the staircase and an omega with closely cropped dark hair entered the room.

“Mama? You have a visitor?” He said quietly, his head down and hands clasped in front of him.

 _The picture of submissive_. Steve noted. _He doesn't look like much, but I guess that's in his nature._

“It's for you, sweetie.” Darlene smiled warmly, urging Sam to come forward.

“I read this over for you. Tony Stark knows about Project: Redwing.”

Sam stiffened.

“It's okay, Sweetie. Bring out your prototype.”

Sam stared at Steve for several seconds before nodding and bringing up a projection screen from thin air, seemingly. He moved his finger around on the screen, a small, winged robot flying into the room. “Hey buddy.” Sam smiled at Redwing, directing him over to Steve. “You can pet him.”

Steve raised his hand, his fingers sliding over the smooth material.

“It's surprisingly soft and lightweight.” Steve complimented.

“The metal is composed of magnesium infused with a dense and even dispersal of ceramic silicon carbide nanoparticles.” Sam mumbled, his head down. His explanation went over Steve’s head completely. “The tech is mostly densely packed nanocrystals. I've been experimenting with nanotechnology lately to-you don't understand anything I'm saying, do you?”

Steve smirked. “Not a thing.” He responded in kind.

“I want you to go with the nice man, sweetie.” Darlene stood, taking a pen from her pocket and signing the document, then holding both out to Sam.

Sam signed the document without question and then gave his mother the pen. “Here you go.” He gave the contract to Steve. “I don't have any clothes packed yet. I need a minute before I can go with you.”

Steve nodded. “That's understable. You've got time.” He smiled as he watched Sam walk back up the stairs.

* * *

 

Sam kept his head down as he clutched his backpack close to his chest, filled to the brim with a material he had refined and created on his own. On his left, Steve had his suitcase casually thrown over his shoulder. “So, did you go to an omega school?” Steve asked conversationally as the two of them neared the entrance of Stark Tower.

Sam looked back at him and stayed silent, meeting Steve’s gaze and shaking his head before immediately looking back at the ground. "Homeschooled."

“...Okay.” Steve cleared his throat. “Have you ever seen an Alpha you're not related to before?” Steve waited for Sam's slow nod before he wracked his brain for another topic, stopping in front of the elevator and pressing the button to go up.

He didn't really know much about kids these days. He was 24, and a beta. He and Sam were worlds apart from one another.

“So, tell me about your family.” Steve prompted. He stepped inside the elevator once it opened, Sam just a step behind him. The kid was getting his own floor, just one level above his and Tony’s.

“Just me and Mama.” Steve raised an eyebrow at that. He actually managed to get an entire sentence out of him!

“Are there a lot of Alphas here? Mama told me that the only Alphas I should trust are her and Riley.”

“Tony can only legally employ Alphas and Betas, so there are a lot of Alphas.” Steve explained. “But they're nice. My friend is one of Tony's business partners and an Alpha. You'll like him.” Steve mused, leaning back against the wall as the elevator doors opened, signalling that someone was joining them.

“I can only like him a little, though.” Sam mumbled under his breath as Bucky stepped inside the elevator, nudging Steve playfully. "Hey, Punk."

“Hm?” Steve looked down at Sam after rolling his eyes at his best friend.

Sam shook his head, taking a casual step away from Steve.

“Hi there.” Bucky held out a hand, palm up, towards Sam and gave him a charming sideways grin. “I'm Bucky. What's your name, Doll?”

Sam looked down at his feet and blushed. “Samuel Thomas Wilson, Mr. Alpha Sir.” He said, making sure he wasn't looking Bucky in the eye.

“Well, aren't you precious, Baby Doll.” Bucky placed a hand on Sam's cheek, and Steve was surprised when Sam leaned into the touch, before remembering himself and stepping away, holding his backpack in front of his face.

Steve cursed his luck. Only he would end up in a cramped space with two destined ones during their very first encounter.

Steve could smell Bucky’s interest in the boy, and what was worse was that Sam was reciprocating. There was a slight indication of an approaching heat and Steve wrinkled his nose. He needed an out, fast.

“Hey, Buck, mind showing Sam to his room? I need to-” _Get the hell out of here before I witness Sam get fucked inside this elevator._ His all too helpful mind supplied. “Go. To this thing.” Steve said, pressing a button on the elevator so he could exit on the next floor.

Bucky nodded, taking Sam's suitcase from Steve, letting the poor beta escape.

As soon as the doors closed, Sam was desperately holding his breath, his eyes shut tight as Bucky moved closer to him, so he could feel his bicep against his shoulder.

The more primitive part of his brain is screaming **_Alpha!_** desperately and Sam feels like he's going to break. Bucky’s scent isn't like anything he's ever experienced. It's a heady scent, permeating the air and making Sam weak in the knees.

“Hey, Doll?”

“Yes Alpha?” Sam answers before he can stop himself and Bucky raises his eyebrow in interest.

“How old are you?”

“18.” Sam supplied.

Bucky nodded, licking his lips. “Thank God.” He breathed before his lips were on Sam's.

He wrapped both of the omegas legs around his waist, smelling the slick that was slowly beginning to leak out of his hole.

“Feels weird.” Sam breathed against Bucky’s lips.

“It's okay Baby Doll. I'm gonna make you feel so good.” Bucky whispered. His caught Sam's lips in a bruising kiss once again. He heard the soft ding of the elevator and pulled away, grabbing Sam's backpack and suitcase before leaving the elevator. He moved Sam so he was over his shoulder and used the key Steve gave him to open the door to Sam's bedroom.

“Alpha, it's hot.” Sam whimpered, clutching onto the back of Bucky’s shirt. His entire body felt too hot and empty, like there was something he was missing.

“Ssh. I'm going to take such good care of you, Baby Doll. Gonna fill you up with my knot.” Bucky promised, gently laying Sam down on his rounded bed. He tugged down Sam's pants, his hands gripping Sam's shapely thighs. He bit the inside of Sam's thigh gently, running his tongue over the bite. Bucky pushed himself up and looked down at Sam. “Turn over for me, Doll. I want to taste you.”

Sam nodded and bit his lip, moving onto his front.

Bucky pulled Sam's boxers down slowly, pushing his legs shoulder width apart and watching slick leak out of Sam, sliding down both his wet thighs. He growled and moved closer to Sam, licking up his thighs before mouthing over his hole. He swallowed greedily, licking and sucking into him.

“Alpha!” Sam cried out, both hands gripping onto the bed frame. He pushed his hips back, forcing Bucky’s tongue deeper inside him. “Keep going Alpha, you're so good.” Sam let out a high pitched moan as he came. Bucky pulled back slightly, pressing kisses and delivering kitten licks to Sam's hole as he clenched around nothing.

Bucky smirked, his face coated in Sam's slick. “Ready for me, Baby Doll?” He asked, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling out his stiff cock, not bothering to undress any more than that. He retrieved a condom from his pocket and slid it on, waiting.

Sam doesn't say anything, just pushed his hips back in response. Bucky guided himself to Sam's hole, pushing in slowly and suddenly Sam had forgotten how to breathe.

Sam's eyes closed in pleasure. He has never felt so full. Sam doesn't want anything else besides this feeling.

Taking his Alpha’s cock, having his knot fill him up and making him heavy with pups, that is what he was made for.

Sam let out his first breath when Bucky begins to thrust, his cock sliding out with a slow drag before pushing back in, Bucky’s head pressed against his prostate. He continued moving at that same angle, setting a pace that had the entire bed rocking from the force of his thrusts, Sam's small body barely managing to hold on.

“Alpha, Alpha, Alpha!” Sam screamed, his head thrown back in pleasure.

Bucky let out a low, guttural noise. “Sam, I'm-” He didn't get to finish as his knot swelled to its full size inside of Sam, causing the omega to whimper breathlessly and fist his hands in the sheets.

Sam closed his eyes, reveling in the intense feeling of relief washing over him as he came, clenching around Bucky’s knot. His entire body went lax and a trail of drool ran down the side of his mouth. He felt a stinging sensation on the back of his neck and smiled, feeling the beginnings of a bond mark beginning to form. He whined as Bucky’s knot began to recede and allowed himself to melt into the mattress, feeling spent. “Alpha...” Sam whined, reaching for Bucky as he pulled out of him.

Bucky nodded, stripping down and laying down next to Sam, pulling him to his chest. “It's okay, Baby Doll.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to Sam's forehead. "I got you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a reason it's called destined ONE. Sam was only supposed to have one Alpha, and he had betrayed him in the most despicable way.

He was ‘ _Your Highness, Majesty, or Black Panther_ ’.

To his destined one, however, he was ‘ _King Cat’, ‘Cha Cha’,_ or ‘ _Kitty_ ’.

T’Challa had known who his destined one was since the day the omega had been born. An American with pretty brown skin going by the name Samuel Thomas Wilson.

T’Challa adored that name, just as he adored the boy-recently turned man-the name belonged to.

He had spent years watching him grow up, video chatting with Sam and his family from his home in Wakanda. His father and Sam's mother had made it so the two of them were arranged to marry once Sam was 18.

Sam would come to Wakanda to live with T’Challa and rule beside him, the omega’s genius free to grow and flourish without the oppressive and sexist American regime. His culture believed that all three genders served their own importance, and omegas were treated with the same honor and respect as any other citizen of a different gender.

His people were open and loving, they would open their hearts to Sam in the same way they had done with T’Challa once he was announced as his father's bastard child, and the next heir to the Wakandan throne.

T’Challa smiled fondly. He loved Sam dearly. The man held his heart in his small, delicate hands.

This had not always been the case, and T’Challa remembered the day he'd realized the love he felt for Sam all too well. The boy had been seven years old at the time, and it was T’Challa’s fourteenth birthday. He'd had a long day of training and preparation for his future as the next Black Panther, Protector of his country. He was lying in bed, exhausted, when Sam’s smiling face had appeared on the projection screen.

* * *

 

_“Kitty!” Sam smiled, his hands on his rounded cheeks. “I missed you so much, Kitty, and I wanted to tell you all about my day at school.” He rambled, not fazed by the fact that T’Challa was lying down on his bed. Sam knew T’Challa had a genuine interest in him, and that the older boy was always listening. “Today my teacher was a big meanie! See, I thought it would be so cool if I could make her chair fly, so I did and it was AWESOME, but then she made me go to timeout and they took all my tools away and told Mama not to let me bring them anymore.” Sam pouted. “But it was so cool. I did it just like you taught me and all your presents are the best! Thank you Kitty, you're the greatest future Alpha ever!”_

_T’Challa sat up and smiled, just a little. “I'm glad you think so.” He said to Sam, once again feeling the familiar pull to the omega that was like a full-body ache. He wanted to touch him, to kiss him._

_But it was more than just intimacy. He wanted to soothe Sam's soft cries after a nightmare, and watch him in his workshop as he created another masterpiece using techniques T’Challa taught him and supplies he provided him with. He resented that he and Sam were so far away from one another._

_“-I love you so much, Kitty!” T’Challa licked his lips and answered before he even had the time to process his response._

_“I love you, too, Sam.” His beautiful omega. He loved him. He wanted-no, needed him. Samuel Thomas Wilson was T’Challa’s destiny, and he, his._

* * *

  
Bucky woke up with a satisfied glow that was almost visible. His whole life had been leading up to this very moment. He could already imagine the beautiful life he was destined to have with Sam.

He wanted pups, at least two of them, but the more the merrier. He would buy a nice place for himself and Sam to live, and Sam would take care of the pups while Bucky worked, and then he would come home, play with his puppies, and at night they would make even more. He wanted one of his pups to succeed his company, Soldat Inc., and the rest were free to do whatever they pleased. It was perfect.

Bucky let out a soft sigh and leaned back, before he heard a soft whimper from the body next to him.

“I'm sorry, Kitty. I'm so sorry.” Sam sobbed, shaking with tears running down his bronzed cheeks.

“Sam? Are you okay?” Bucky touched Sam's hand, and the omega pulled away, as if the touched burned him. “I'm your destined, Sam. You can tell me what's wrong.”

“...I'm broken. Something went wrong.” Sam mumbled after several moments of tense silence. “I was arranged to marry my destined. I've known him since I was a pup. But my body...it reacted to you. That isn't supposed to happen. I was supposed to leave America and finally go to Wakanda for a marriage ceremony.” Sam sobbed loudly. “I...I've been saving myself for him. But I've betrayed him.”

“Sam, look.” Bucky turned away from Sam, showing him his back. There was a large falcon with deep, red and white wings that stretched across each of Bucky’s shoulders. The mark had always been there, but the color was a new addition. “It's you. I know it's you.” He breathed, kissing Sam's forehead. “I can feel it, right here.” Bucky placed his hand over his heart. “Whatever this is, it's real.”

“It can't be. I have always belonged to T’Challa. His mark is always there. It's warm on my body.” Sam blushed. “It has no color, but I can feel it.” He reached for Bucky’s hand, allowing him to feel the almost imperceptibly raised skin. He traced down his forearms, over his chest and finally over his hips.

“I've never heard of one so large.” Bucky bit his lip, sadly. He could never hold a candle to that. “But you-you belonged to me first. I see my mark on your body.”

On Sam's own back was the perfect portrait of a snow-white wolf, its eyes big and blue. It was large, taking up nearly all of Sam's back, but it wasn't enough. Bucky wanted his mark to be the larger of Sam's two.

“I'm broken. I need to see a doctor, figure out exactly what is wrong with me.” Sam climbed out of bed, hastily putting on an outfit.

“We can...we'll figure this out.” Bucky pulled on his clothes from the previous day and bit his lip. “Dr. Banner. He's one of my contacts, and one of the smartest omegas I know.”

Sam considered Bucky’s offer for a few moments. “He can fix me?” He asked Bucky, quietly.

Bucky wiped his eyes, knowing what ‘fixing’ Sam meant. It hurt, because the problem with the situation was him.

“He can try.”

Sam nodded. “Call him. I don't know when T’Challa will send for me. I have to...” The words went unsaid. _I have to get rid of our bond._

Bucky took a deep breath. “I understand.” He took out his phone, calling Bruce. Just like he’d had plans for what his future would be, so did his destined, and those plans just didn't include him.

* * *

 

 

Many hours later, after a very rushed and uncomfortable conversation between Bucky, Steve, and Tony that involved lots of angry alpha pheromones and Bucky pulling the best friend card on Steve; and a plane ride to South Sudan, Bucky and Sam were standing inside of Bruce Banner’s lab. The man was timid, his eyes never leaving the floor, and he allowed a man who appeared to be his Alpha to speak for him.

“Loki Odinson.” The man had long black hair, tied back in a simple ponytail. “How can we help you and your omega?”

“We actually needed to inquire about a mark removal.” Bucky bit his lip, his heart beginning to ache. He would have to endure. He couldn't force Sam to love him.

“Please, show us.” Loki smiled, and Bucky noted how the man was almost unsettling before he looked to Sam, who was lifting his shirt.

“The mark is not visible, but it can be felt. It takes up all of my torso and over my arms and hips. I was wondering if I could have it removed. I have a destined Alpha already, it is unnatural to have a second.” Sam looked down and noticed that the skin had somehow been raised slightly, so the outline was completely visible.

“You are a naive one, Omega Wilson.” Sam looked up, obvious shock coloring his features. Bucky wore the same expression, for he had been sure that he was going to be the one that Sam rid himself of.

“You do not understand. I cannot face him, I am...bonded. This is the only way I can sever our ties without an altercation.” Sam mumbled, his hands clasped together. “Please, you must help me.”

“But, young one, the glory of battle and conquest is to alphas to what pregnancy is to an omega!” An Alpha neither Sam nor Bucky had noticed before said in a loud baritone. He moved to stand next to Bruce, putting a hand on his belly that Sam had just noticed was round with unborn pups. The Alpha was clothed in battle gear; a chest plate and armor with a red cape to top off the outfit with a flourish.

“Bruce, explain.” Loki said in a soft, patient tone. "And Thor, stop speaking. You'll lower this brilliant omega’s I.Q." 

“You see,” Bruce pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “While it may be extremely rare, it is completely possible for an omega to have more than one destined. Myself, for example.” He looked down at the boisterous, blond Alpha’s hand and smiled.

The blond Alpha nodded in agreement. “In fact, it is actually a good sign in many cultures. It means you are more fertile, stronger, and more intelligent than the average omega. You have been given a gift. Cherish it.” His smile was kind and genuine, and Bucky felt happy to see the way Sam visibly deflated with relief.

“If my omega had decided to remove either of our marks, it would destroy the three of us. The process is extremely dangerous, and often renders an omega infertile. Do not consider this option again.” Loki stated, dismissing both Bucky and Sam with a menacing look.

* * *

  
“Your Majesty, there has been an issue.” T’Challa raised a hand at the Dora Milaje that was training him, effecting ending their spar.

“Has there been an issue? Why has my father not yet been contacted?” T’Challa removed his black panther headpiece and eyed them warily.

“It is an issue regarding you, personally, Your Majesty.” Nakia spoke, eying the outline of wings on the back of T’Challa’s exposed hand. “Your destined one had been...compromised, Your Majesty.”

T’Challa reached for his gloves, pulling them on and extending his claws. “Who is responsible?” He gritted out through his teeth.

“Your Majesty, you cannot go out and seek vengeance for a willingly bonded omega.” Nakia insisted. “I say this not only as a member of your royal guard, but also your friend.”

“But you see,” T’Challa put on his headpiece on. “I can,” He flexed his claws, “And I will. Coordinates.”

“T’Challa.”

“ _Coordinates_ , Nakia.”

Nakia sighed heavily. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent days thinking about what I was going to do with this chapter. So, enjoy?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Okoye didn’t return the smile. “He is...distraught. Vengeful.” Her gaze lingered on Bucky, who stood behind Sam, knowing well enough that it has to be the omega that explains. “King T’Chaka understands your situation. He bears you no ill will. He is trying his best to distract the prince enough for him to calm down and listen. But you know the Prince well.”_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _Sam nodded, his face grim._
> 
>  
> 
> _“I wish you luck, James. Please do not die.” ___

T’Chaka ordered the Dora Milaje to stop T’Challa from leaving their country.

He was not happy with the new development, but T’Chaka knew better than to make the same mistake twice. The connection between his heir and Sam Wilson was strong, stronger than any T’Chaka had ever seen, and that made this new development all the more dangerous. He clasped his hands together with a heavy, drawn out sigh. “Apprehend him. I have already sent for Samuel Wilson and James Barnes myself.  
I will not allow my son to go out and kill anyone needlessly.” He sighed, resting his forehead on his hands. A country, he can handle, but his son had always been entirely too much like his birth mother. While he was no longer the walking hurricane his mother had been as a member of the Dora Milaje, T’Challa was still painfully, dreadfully stubborn.

“Why have you stopped me, father?” T’Challa’s voice was full of a savage anger, his fist effectively creating a split in T’Chaka’s desk when he slammed it down.

T’Chaka gazed up at his son, unable to keep from smiling. “You truly are your mother's likeness, my son.” He took T’Challa’s degloved hand in two of his own and kissed his palm. “I have no doubt that if she could, she would be right next to you, fighting me on this.”

“Father...” T’Challa looked away. “My mother. She would agree with me?”

“Agreement be damned, your mother would fight for her son until her dying breath. She did.” Tears sprouted of the corners of T’Chaka’s eyes and he let go of T’Challa’s hand. “Sometimes, it hurts to look at you and see her. I wish I could've done more for her.”

“No.” T’Challa shook his head. “You did more than enough. Father, do not blame yourself. It was never your fault. I will never blame you.”

T’Chaka bowed his head. “Thank you, my son.”

_T’Chaka was a good king._

_But T’Challa? He will be a great one._

* * *

 

“You have been summoned to the Wakandan Palace.” Sam looked at the woman standing in front of him. He recognized her, from the times T’Challa had skipped training to talk with him.

There had been a group of strong, stone-faced women he'd had to hide from each time.

“The Dora Milaje. Okoye.” Sam grinned, holding out his hand. “How is Kit-Prince T’Challa?” He corrected himself. His mark warmed at the mere thought of seeing T’Challa’s smiling face again.

Okoye didn’t return the smile. “He is...distraught. Vengeful.” Her gaze lingered on Bucky, who stood behind Sam, knowing well enough that it has to be the omega that explains. “King T’Chaka understands your situation. He bears you no ill will. He is trying his best to distract the prince enough for him to calm down and listen. But you know the Prince well.”

Sam nodded, his face grim.

“I wish you luck, James. Please do not die.”

Bucky gives Sam a panicked look. _Am I going to die?_

Sam shrugged unhelpfully. “My other destined is The future King of Wakanda, and the Black Panther, protector of the Nation.”

“I see.” Bucky accepted the answer with a nod. _I am definitely going to die_.

* * *

 

Their plane to Wakanda is quiet, and Okoye stared at Bucky, her eyes saying their final farewells. The view as they arrive in the country, flying high above the ground, was breathtaking.

Bucky wants to be buried here, once Prince T’Challa kills him.

The plane lands and as they lead him to a palace that is just as beautiful as everything else in Wakanda. They walk inside and the two of them are instructed to wait. Bucky does, his back resting against a wall.

Nothing could’ve prepared Bucky for this. He is going to be attacked by The Black Panther, and while Bucky is strong, and has training of his own and did a tour in the Special Ops Division of the military, he doesn't hold a candle to the advanced training required to become the sole protector of an entire sovereign nation.

“Bucky?” Sam's voice is enough to bring Bucky back down to the earth. “He won't kill you.”

“You cannot guarantee that.”

Sam smiled, all innocence, beauty and perfection, and Bucky can't help but love him. “He won't kill you, because you are important to me, and I am everything to him. But if he tries to anyway, I have a plan.” Sam ran his fingers over Bucky’s wrist. “Trust me.”

“You know I do.” Bucky pressed his lips to Sam's. His entire back lit up, glowing red and white and he cupped Sam's cheek gently. “But this-I can't beat him, Sam. I'll die.”

“I'm glad you are aware.” Bucky only had a second to react before he heard the sound of claws extending and a hand, covered in a black glove with extended claws, pierced the wall next to his face. His eyes followed the glove, trailing up an arm covered in black only to meet the gaze of The Black Panther. His eyes were piercing, even through the mask.

“Oh shit.” Bucky let out a shocked breath, glad his reflexes were still polished enough to save his life.

“King Cat...” Sam’s voice made T’Challa freeze.

“Sam?” T’Challa’s voice was soft.

“I'm here, Kitty.” Sam took a step toward T’Challa, turning his head away from Bucky. “I'm actually here, and so are you.” His hands cupped T’Challa’s cheeks and he smiled. “I've always wanted to meet you in person. Let me...” His fingers lifted the headpiece, exposing T’Challa’s face. “I love you, Kitty.”

“Do not lie, Sam. You have already hurt me enough.” T’Challa looked over at Bucky.

Bucky just stared at T’Challa. He had never actually seen the Prince’s face before, and he was just as breathtaking as the rest of Wakanda.

T’Challa scowled at Bucky as his anger returned. He wrapped a hand around his throat, lifting him into the air. His claws pressed into his throat, and Bucky lifted his feet, kicking T'Challa backward and forcing him to release him.

Bucky rubbed his throat, feeling the indent of T'Challa's claws. "You're jealous of me, aren't you?" He smirked. "Some King. You're just a _petty_ little man."

“He gave you his first kiss, first time, the bond we were supposed to have..." T'Challa breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself. He was better than this. "You were my everything, Sam. I thought we were going to wait for each other, but I was wrong. You are not the man I once believed you to be. I wonder if I had ever really known you at all."

Sam covered his mouth, eyes wide. He never believed that T’Challa would ever say something like that to him, but what hurt the most was how right the Wakandan prince was. Sam's entire life, he had been looking forward to the day when he and T’Challa finally met. This was not what he had planned, but Sam blamed no one but himself. “Kitty, I'm sorry, I am the person you know. All these years, everything I said, I meant it. I still do. Kitty-"

“My name is T’Challa.” As T’Challa’s words registered in his mind, he immediately tried to correct himself, but could not find the correct words. “I am sorry, Sam. I need some time alone to accept your rejection. The way I am acting is...childish and unfair. These are not the actions befitting of a future king. You are my world, Sam. I will always love you. These feelings cannot be tossed away so easily.” T’Challa nodded at them both. “I am not a man without honor. I respect your wishes, Sam. I hope that we may still be friends.”

Both Sam and Bucky watched T’Challa walk away, dumbfounded.

“Sam?”

“...Yes?” Sam said quietly, looking at T’Challa’s retreating back.

“Don't get this wrong, I do love you, but that is the most beautiful man I have ever seen.”

"He is even more beautiful when he smiles. His eyes are so genuine, and he's always looked at me like I am his entire universe. He loved me." Sam laughed bitterly. "I guess I ruined that, huh?"

"You haven't lost him yet. He loves you." Bucky squeezed Sam's hand. "I will talk to him." He stood, following after T'Challa. "Everything will turn out fine. Trust me." He told Sam as he entered the room T'Challa disappeared into.

"Here to gloat, Barnes?" T'Challa asked without turning to look at Bucky, his fist connecting with a punching bag.

"No." Bucky raised his fists. "I'm here to talk."

"You look like you came to spar." T'Challa spared Bucky a scathing glance.

He shrugged. "Same damn thing." He took a deep breath. "Put the claws away. Fight me like a man, not like the Black Panther."

"I would much prefer if you would go to hell." T'Challa breathed, pausing in his assault of the punching bag.

"In your dreams."

"From now on? Possibly. I have always had sweet dreams." T'Challa kicked the bag. "I need them especially, now that my every waking moment has become my worst nightmare since childhood."

Bucky was taken aback by T'Challa's honestly. He walked over to him, aiming a hit towards his face.

T'Challa caught his hand without flinching. "Fine. Let's spar."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fight next chapter


	4. Chapter 4

Bucky looked at T’Challa’s hand, which still had his fist firmly in its grasp. “Are you going to let go?” he asked T’Challa, waiting for his next morning. He was hoping that if he allowed T’Challa to get a few hits on him, he’d make him feel better so the three of them could all talk. The scientist triad were living proof that it was possible for the three of them to all work everything out.

Bucky’s eyes widened when he felt himself being lifted into the air as if he weighed nothing, but he didn’t have time for it to sink in before he was landing flat on his back. He stared up at T’Challa, wide-eyed. He didn’t make a habit of underestimating his opponent during a fight, but he was a fully grown Alpha, and by no means was he small, and that was if the fact that his arm was made of metal was completely disregarded. T’Challa shouldn’t be able to throw him around like that. He stared up at T’Challa, speechless.

“You said you wanted to fight,” T’Challa hissed, looking down at Bucky with nothing but contempt and distaste. “Get up and fight me, then. Before I decide that you aren’t worth my time, Barnes.” He walked around to where Bucky was laying down, pressing the heel of his foot against his chest and digging in. Bucky grabbed T’Challa’s ankle with his metal hand, narrowing his eyes.

“Get your foot off of me.” He pushed the foot aside, hoping to throw T’Challa off balance. Instead, T’Challa planted his feet with ease, waiting patiently while Bucky gathered his footing and stood.

“Then stop wasting my time. You’ve done enough already.” T’Challa turned his back to Bucky, not even doing him the service of treating him like a real opponent. He clenched on of his hands into a fist, waiting. “If if weren’t for my father and Sam, you’d be dead already. Don’t fool yourself into thinking that we are friends, Barnes.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “If you didn’t want to spar, you could’ve just said no.” He came at T’Challa full force, intending to make him treat him like he was worth fighting. Bucky wasn’t weak.

T’Challa sidestepped Bucky’s attack, kicking his feet from under him. Bucky landed flat on his ass. “I didn’t say yes because I wanted to spar. I said yes because I saw, from the very moment I looked at you, that you will never be deserving of Sam’s love. You are weak, and I’m going to show you exactly how weak you are.”

Bucky’s blood boiled as he looked T’Challa in the eye. He didn’t even seem to be fazed by the harsh words he was using against him. Bucky was already panting, yet T’Challa hadn’t broken a sweat. If Bucky hadn’t been the direct recipient of T’Challa’s attack, he would believe the man hadn’t moved at all. “I hate you,” Bucky spat out, getting to his feet.

“You have no right. I didn’t steal the man you loved from you.” T’Challa’s jaw twitched. “I have no desire to be in your presence anymore. This fight is over,” he said, heading toward the room’s exit.

“I’m not finished yet. Stop running away, coward!” Bucky shouted at him.

“Coward, huh?” T’Challa stopped mid-step. He turned around, the beginnings of a smirk playing on his lips. “I have just had my heart ripped out of my chest, and I am coward?” He looked toward the ceiling and laughed, a loud, booming sound that was like magic to Bucky’s ears.

As Bucky stared at T’Challa, watching the smooth, dark planes of his throat and the way his necklace draped over his collarbones and settled on his clothed chest, he was reminded that—coward or not—T’Challa was beautiful.

T’Challa’s laughter cut off suddenly. “Twice, I have spared your worthless life already, Barnes. Do not test me again,” he threatened, turning his back to Bucky and leaving the room. “I am done with you. I’ll ensure that you and Sam have a safe flight back to America.”

“So you’re done with Sam, too?” Bucky asked T’Challa, running to catch up with his long strides.

“I’ll never be done with Sam. The issue here isn’t that.” T’Challa shook his head. “Sam has made his choice, and he chose you. More than once, he has chosen you. So Sam is done with me.” He sped up his pace, climbing up a large staircase that branched out in two directions. He held his head high as he watched, not allowing anyone to see how much he was hurting. T’Challa kept the façade until he reached his bedroom and opened the door, letting out a breath when he saw Sam walking around the room, admiring every single detail. “Sam.”

Sam didn’t turn around to look at him. “Is it weird that, even though this is my first time in this castle and in this room, it all feels like home to me?” He sat down on T’Challa bed, turning his head to look at him. “I remember that, the day after the first time you told me you loved me, I said I wanted sheets just like these ones.” Sam chuckled. “And in a week, I had them. You always spoiled me, Kitty. You gave me everything I wanted.”

“Yet it somehow wasn’t enough.” T’Challa sucked in his bottom lip. “You still chose someone else, Sam. What are you doing in my room? You should be with the man you love.”

“I am,” Sam disagreed. “My mark is still here, Kitty.”

“And mine is as well.” T’Challa pointedly looked everywhere in the room but Sam, trying to force away the physical pull he felt toward him. It was painful to fight, but he didn’t have a choice, for now. After they left, it wouldn’t hurt anymore. “But that doesn’t matter, Sam. You made your choice already.”

“You’re right,” Sam agreed. He picked at the fabric of T’Challa’s sheets, looking directly at him even though T’Challa wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I did make my choice. But I don’t think you know what that choice is.”

“It’s that man. Barnes.” T’Challa said the name like a curse.

Sam nodded. “You’re half right.”

T’Challa’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “I don’t—how can I be half right, Sam?” He finally looked at him, his eyes filled with confusion. He didn’t understand. He was a genius and the next King to rule the greatest country to exist, and yet he didn’t understand what his own soulmate, the man he was permanently bound to, was trying to say?

“You’re confused,” Sam stated. “Confusion is good, Kitty. Just hear me out and I’ll explain.” He closed his eyes. “Is there something wrong with me, Kitty? Being born the way I am, could there ever be anything wrong?” he asked.

T’Challa shook his head, still not fully comprehending. “Sam, I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me. But no, you’re not wrong. You are perfect.”

Sam’s lips quirked up in a smile. “Thank you, Kitty.” He stared up at the ceiling, admiring the colors and patterns that decorated the area above T’Challa’s bed. “Because if there’s nothing wrong with the way I am, then there’s nothing wrong with the fact that I have soul bonding marks from the both of you. That my body feels incomplete without the color of yours filled in.”

“Sam, I. . .” T’Challa trailed off.

“I’ll spell it out for you, Kitty.” Sam pushed himself up and into a sitting position. “I want you both. I’ve made my choice, Kitty, and I choose you  _ and _ Bucky.”

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic. Why do I do this to myself?
> 
>  
> 
> [follow me on tumblr if you want!](https://nerdbbks.tumblr.com/)


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